


A crisis

by orphan_account



Series: The Long Road [13]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Guilt, M/M, mortification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-13
Updated: 2011-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-23 17:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James' faith causes him a lot of pain...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A crisis

James shut himself into his own world after that night and communicated with nods and monosyllabic answers at work.

 

In vain Robbie tried to get him on his own to talk to him because James just moved away or made sure there were witnesses to whatever his Boss wanted to say.

 

Robbie was at a complete loss. Did James not love him any more, now that he had finally been able to admit to himself that he loved James? Was it the religious guilt? He didn’t know who to turn to. He wasn’t religious himself and didn’t know any Catholics he could ask about the problem, certainly not without embarrassing James.

 

Then it hit him – there was one person he could ask, but she was out of the country. He sent an email, hoping she would receive it but with no idea how long it would take or even if she still used that email address.

 

James came into the office with two cups of coffee in his hands and placed one on Robbie’s desk without making eye contact. He looked strained and walked with a slight limp. Robbie sighed heavily, got up from his desk and came around, taking the younger man by both arms, shaking him

 

“For God’s sake, Hathaway – at least speak to me! Say something!”

 

James swayed and went white then without a sound he passed out and collapsed on the floor. Robbie threw himself to his knees and shouted “Someone see if Dr Hobson is in the building! Quick - Officer in trouble here.” He patted James’ face, then stroked it, whispering

 

“Oh you stupid boy, what have you done? Why are you so bloody awkward?” He loosened the lad’s tie, unbuttoned his collar and checked his breathing. Then he noticed a damp patch on his sergeant’s crotch – oh God, no, he’d pissed himself.

 

Laura Hobson bustled in, bag in hand and very much in-charge. She was very fond of Hathaway and her concern showed itself in brisk no-nonsense efficiency. She took his hand and pinched the skin on the back of it then shook her head.

 

“He’s dehydrated. Has he been starving himself? Fasting, perhaps?” Robbie didn’t know but suspected that might be true and pointed silently at the damp patch he had noticed.

 

Laura undid his trousers and gasped. James had wrapped a cilice around his penis and testicles and he was bleeding from severe scratch marks from the barbed chain. Where the skin wasn’t actually cut, it was red and raw.

 

“Oh the stupid bugger” Robbie grabbing a cup of water and trying to raise his sergeant’s head so that he could make him drink.

 

“What the hell would make him do that?” Laura asked, fixing Robbie with a hard stare as she tried to extricate him from the cruel metal that was ripping his skin.

 

“Mortification, self-punishment of the physical body for the good of the soul,” replied Robbie “It’s a word I’ve heard a lot recently. Hang on, try and turn him over.” Between them they rolled Hathaway over, lifted his shirt and examined his back, which was covered in raised welts. “Oh you bloody idiot” he whispered, wanting to take him in his arms. “What have you done to your stupid self?”

 

Laura stood up “He’ll need antiseptic cream for those abrasions and lots of liquids for the dehydration and I think he needs to see a therapist. This is self-abuse, Robbie and I’m very concerned about his mental state. Shall I speak to Innocent or will you?”

 

“She’ll speak to both of you now, thank you” said a voice from the door and Jean Innocent stepped forward to crouch down by James’ inert body, completely unconcerned by his exposed genitals.

 

“He’s to take a week’s leave, Robbie, and so are you – look after him, call it compassionate leave in your docket. He’s broken regulations in rendering himself unfit for work so I want him to be kept at home, see a psychiatrist and not come back until he is OK. He’s always been on a knife edge, looks like he is falling off it.”

 

Robbie decided to take James home to his own place where there would be fewer potential instruments of self-torture. He stopped off at a chemist’s to get cream and a bottle of blackcurrant cordial. James had come round but was staring listlessly out of the window, probably suffering from terminal shame.

 

He had to be helped up the steps and then Robbie rounded on him. Addressing the lad slumped on the sofa he let rip as he hadn’t done since his own son was a teenager, ending up with “…what kind of bloody heathen are you, Hathaway?”

 

James mumbled something about Robbie not understanding Catholic doctrine and Robbie whirled on him again.

 

“Fucking right I don’t sunshine. You think your loving God, your Holy Father, and your Sweet Jesus, want you to hurt yourself because you love me? Is that right? You think by making yourself really ill, you’re going to please the Holy Fucking Trinity? Is that it?

 

Your friend Will MacEwan really did die for nothing, didn’t he, James? He tried to tell you that love is never wrong and he arranged it so that YOU would hear it in such a way that you would remember it forever. But you are still determined, in your arrogant, pig-headed fucking way, to know better than anyone else. Just because you and I finally admitted we love each other, you have to rip yourself to pieces to appease your vengeful god … that isn’t Christianity, James that is some kind of primitive idolatry.”

 

James was sobbing, his head on his arms, folded on his knees.

 

“And you can stop that bloody noise, James Hathaway because I’m going to make you hear sense. Just for once I’m not going to be kind and nice to you. I’m going to tell you exactly where you get off.

How do you think it makes me feel - Hmm? I thought we were lovers and we got close, we made love, and it was really nice, James, it was … beautiful … and now I have to watch you half-killing yourself because of what WE did. Do you think that makes me feel good, James, well, do you?”

 

James’ head shot up and he glared into Robbie’s face, furious.

 

“I’m sorry, alright, I’m really sorry. I apologise for making you feel bad but if you think that was my intention, you’re wrong. I can’t help how I was brought up or my religion.”

 

“Yes you can, James, you can grow up and realise that what is past is past. You can stop hiding behind the bad stuff in your past and face the future like a man …with me.”

 

Robbie was on his knees in front of James, holding him in his arms and hugging him close.

 

“Can’t you see it, you great pudding? I love you. I can’t bear to see you hurting like this. Love is never wrong. Remember that? You love me, that’s been obvious for years and I love you and we are just going to have to get on with it as best we can. You’re going to have to learn to just enjoy it and stop worrying. Now come on and let me put some cream on you.”

 

They went through to the bedroom and James undressed, allowing Robbie to put cream on the lash marks on his back. Then he lay on the bed while his lover applied it to his damaged dick and balls.

 

Caressing him lovingly, Robbie decided that this was a good moment and, watching the reaction from his sergeant, he steeled himself to put his mouth down and kiss James’ cock, gently kissing up and down the length, tonguing his balls and sucking on its end.

 

“I didn’t think you could” James groaned, appreciating it despite his pain.

 

“Well I can, so just enjoy it. But next time we’ll forget the antiseptic cream because it tastes bloody foul.”

 

That struck James as very funny and he was still giggling when he came, his hand over Robbie’s head, pushing it further down his shaft.

 

“Are you going to be alright now?” Robbie asked him later.

 

“Yes, I think so.” James replied. “Just keep reminding me … Love is Never Wrong.”

 

Robbie lay, out of breath, his head still on James crotch and smiled quietly to himself.

“That’s right, lad, that’s right, love is NEVER wrong.”


End file.
